Time, Space, Magic
by KatHarkness-Katara
Summary: Harry hasn't had a normal childhood. Hogwarts' Class of '91 will be slightly larger...if he makes it. No slash. Dursley-bashing.
1. Prologue: What Is To Come

**Time, Space, Magic Prologue What is to Come**

Cedric Diggory stirred, and awoke. When he'd passed out, it had been in a dark graveyard, surrounded and under attack by Death Eaters, his only ally a strangely altered Harry Potter. Now, however, he was in a white, well-lit room full of strange devices. It had the same general feel as the Hospital Wing.

A row of lights started flickering as he sat up. Next to his bed, a black-haired man in a long coat snapped out of a doze. "Cedric?" he asked, his voice strangely accented. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad," he answered warily. "Where am I?"

The man sighed. "It's probably best if Harry explains it. You're safe, so don't worry, and with luck you'll be home soon. Stay put while I get Harry, okay?"

"Um, okay," Cedric agreed. The man left, and Cedric looked around. He was no longer dressed on the black and yellow of Hogwarts: Hufflepuff. Instead, he was wearing a loose shirt and trousers made of a very pale blue, soft cloth. He flushed at the thought of someone undressing him, then remembered something. His wand. Glancing around again, he spied the length of wood on the bedside table and snatched it up.

"Wouldn't recommend using that here, but if it makes you feel better, by all means, have it." Cedric looked up at the oddly half-familiar voice. A young man, early twenties maybe, stood in the doorway. His hair was black and messy, his eyes emerald green, almond-shaped and uncovered, and he wore the same pale blue ensemble as Cedric. The Hufflepuff stared for a moment before recognizing his friend and rival. "Harry?" he gasped, remembering the transformation the Gryffindor had undergone in the graveyard.

"That's me," Harry nodded. "We got away safe. Voldemort's back, but we're alive and we'll be back before anyone even knows we were gone."

"But…where are we?" Cedric asked. "And what happened to you?"

"We're in a muggle hospital," Harry said, sitting down in the chair. "Three thousand odd years in the future. And, well, as you can probably tell, I'm older than you thought. I'm nearly twenty-five years old. This is where it gets a little complicated." Harry squirmed in his seat. "You see, when I was twenty-one, I did a bit of jiggery-pokery to put myself in an eleven-year-old body. Felt a bit weird to be a kid again, but it was an interesting experience. While my younger body aged, my older one was in a sort of stasis. I just swapped back to that one."

"What?" Cedric spluttered. "How is any of that possible? No, forget that; what are you even on about?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Let's take it back a bit. I am a time traveller."

"That's not possible," Cedric instantly denied.

"You'd think, wouldn't you?," Harry contradicted with a mischievous little smile. "I'm not even the only one. There are four others in Hogwarts, not counting Hermione Granger and the time-turner she had last year."

"So that's how she did it; her timetable was legendary," Cedric murmured, then the rest sunk in. "What?! Four others?! _Who?!_"

Harry smirked. "I'll let you work it out," he said. "I'll even give you a clue. They're a diverse bunch, but still formed their group."

Cedric frowned. "I take it it's nothing to do with your 'Golden Trio'?" he asked.

"Hate that name," Harry scowled. "We only got it because Dumbledore would let us do anything we liked as long as we didn't get caught."

"Better than Huffle-Claw Quids," Cedric grinned, thinking of his own social group of fifth, sixth and seventh years, mostly Quidditch players, including his own gorgeous girlfriend, Cho. Then he turned back to the problem, trying to recall what groups Harry Potter had been part of. "The Cross-House Crew," he concluded at last.

"Yup," Harry nodded. "John Smith of Gryffindor, Harold Saxon of Slytherin, Luke Smith of Ravenclaw, and Jack Harkness of Hufflepuff."

"Never would have thought of them as time travellers," Cedric mused. "How did that happen?"

Harry smiled, thinking back to how it all began for him.

**AN: Welcome to my new story. Whether you are a regular reader of my works or you've never heard of me before, enjoy the ride!**

**This prologue is short, and it is a bit of a teaser, so next update (in a few weeks) will be longer, and will start the story proper.**

**For my regular readers: Sorry for the delay, I'll try to be back to Monday next week. Also this week, a new character in Flashback and Red Robin and Spiderman working a case in LBV.**

**Next week: The next installments of Flashback and Black and Red, and the first chapter of the exciting Avengers/Star Trek TOS crossover Trek of the Avengers**

**Love all you wonderful readers, so will you please review?**

**Until next time,**

**Katara**


	2. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**Time, Space, Magic Part 1 The Time/Space Years**

**Chapter 1 The Beginning**

Mr and Mrs Dursley, and their son Dudley, of Number Four, Privet Drive, were perfectly normal, thank you very much. Their nephew and orphaned ward, Harry Potter, was not normal. He was, at school, 'the troubled Potter lad', at home, 'boy', or worse, 'freak'. He acted as housemaid, gardener, porter and, increasingly often, cook.

It was his fifth birthday, and if he was lucky, he might get a dry crust to celebrate with. First, however, he must trim the hedges, mow the lawn, weed the flower beds, mop the floors, tidy up whatever mess Dudley had made, cook dinner and serve it. Then, he would hopefully get his scrap of food and could curl up in his cupboard.

Right now, he was struggling with the secateurs, halfway down the hedge. He clipped the stray, protruding branches, then moved in closer to even it out before moving on to the next length. Harry heard footsteps approach, and got nervous. Uncle Vernon didn't like people seeing him while he did his chores. He fumbled with the secateurs, and they closed around his finger.

He started, dropping the sharp-bladed utensil as blood ran down his arm. His left index finger had a deep cut between his second and third joints. Actually, there were two cuts, one on either side, and Harry could see white bone between the crimson splatters. Then the pain hit, everything from an all-consuming fire to a bone-deep ache. He let out a brief shriek, then clapped his uninjured hand over his mouth. He mustn't let the neighbours know.

* * *

This was fun, the Doctor mused. New body, new face, new fashion sense, quick spin of the ol' time rotors while Rose finished packing…

Hmm, Rose. Boy, he loved her, but…ooh, that had changed. Big-ears and leather jacket had _liked_ her, wouldn't have minded some spirited courting at all, but now…Rose seemed so much like his daughter. That daughter died, years ago, during the time of his first body. The wife had gone to visit their daughter and son-in-law, there was a terrible accident…all that was left was their daughter, his granddaughter, Susan Foreman.

The Doctor sighed. It had been _years_ since there were any children on the TARDIS. Susan had left to settle down with a special someone - a lot of the girls did that, actually. Adric, from E-Space; he had _very_ filial thoughts about him, but a change of face and…well. He was gone now. Might be nice to adopt a kid, but would the whole of space and time be a suitable playground?

Ah, fresh air. Surrey, England, Earth. Traces of pollutants in the air matching…mid 1980s. End of July, beginning of August. Quite hot, but not unbearable.

Classic suburbia, cookie cutter houses with lace curtains and frequently mowed lawns. A barely-discernable snip-snip-snip told the Doctor someone was trimming the hedge. How dull. Why anyone would want to live here was a-

A shriek rang through the still air. A child's scream. It cut off quickly. The Doctor looked about, trying to see where it came from. Before he could, a bony, horse-faced woman came out of house number four. "Aw, did you cut your fingers on the shears, Harry dear?" she asked.

* * *

As though on cue, Aunt Petunia came out of the house. She simpered out the expected platitudes in a falsely-sweet voice. Next door's lace curtains twitched, and Aunt Petunia walked over to the distressed child. "Stop your howling, you freak!" she hissed. "You'll be getting no supper tonight, just straight in the cupboard and not out tomorrow! Now finish the chores, and if I see a spot of blood anywhere you'll be in there for a week! Understand?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry gasped, cradling his wounded hand.

"You better," she warned, and straightened up. "Just a scratch. Be more careful next time," she said lightly for the benefit of the neighbours, and left him.

Over the years, the Doctor had met several abused kids, and knew the signs. Neglect for wellbeing (that wound had to be serious if the scream was any indication), starving, kept out of sight…sounded like this Harry wasn't in a happy home.

* * *

Harry looked at his finger. Blood was still flowing, and he was starting to feel dizzy. He didn't think he'd even be able to pick up the secateurs again, let alone finish the chores.

"Hey, Harry!" a voice said, and the boy looked around, and then up. A brown haired head was poking over the hedge, looking at him, eyes widening in shock. "Kid, are you okay? No, of course not, you're- Stay there, I'm coming to see."

"No-" Harry protested, but it was too late. The man's head disappeared, and he reappeared a moment later, jumping over the gate, long brown coat flaring behind. He came over and knelt next to him.

"It's okay, Harry, I'm the Doctor," he said. "I'm going to make you better now, okay?"

Harry held still, terrified at what would happen if Aunt Petunia or Dudley looked out the window, and didn't protest when the Doctor took his hand. The Doctor took out a small metal stick, maybe the size of a marker pen or a little larger. It buzzed, the end glowing blue, and before Harry's awestruck eyes, the wound clotted, pink skin covering over the scab, leaving a deep red mark, pain vanishing.

Harry gasped and reclaimed his hand, turning it this way and that to examine the digit.

* * *

Harry didn't say anything, didn't even react when the Doctor took his hand. Just…stillness, silence, and fear in his eyes.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and activated a healing function he'd added a few decades back. Harry gasped as the wound scabbed and a thin layer of skin covered it. "Useful little addition, but no substitute for specialized care," he muttered. The boy would still need to go to hospital. His aunt clearly wouldn't take him…Hmm.

"Now, Harry," he started. "I heard that woman- your aunt?- talking. Tell me: do you live in a cupboard?" Harry nodded shyly. "Eat scraps?" Another nod. "Get beaten?"

"Sometimes," Harry whispered.

The Doctor nodded. He wasn't leaving the child here. "Where are your parents?" If this was a temporary arrangement, he'd take Harry to the local hospital and get his parents.

Harry shivered. "Dead," he said tonelessly, and that settled it.

"Do you want to stay here? Or would you like to come with me?" he offered. "Eat well, be with people who care for you…?" he trailed off. He couldn't really offer safety, but he would care for this little boy as though he were his own son.

* * *

Harry thought. No more cupboard, no scraps, no Harry Hunting. For the first time, he felt hope for the future. "You."

The Doctor grinned. "Come on, then!"

* * *

First to get Rose, then a hospital somewhere, and then…

**AN: Obviously, this is a loooong time before the prologue. For the record, I don't ship 10/Rose. So don't ask for it.**

**Also this week, the epilogue of Family Ties and the next chapter of Red and Black. Next week, the next chapters of Flashback, Little Bird's Vengeance and Trek of the Avengers.**

**Please review!**

**Katara**


End file.
